


The Craigslist Guy

by Neffectual



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Awkwardness, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving Dinner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-05-02 11:35:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5246816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neffectual/pseuds/Neffectual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth gets desperate enough to take a total stranger home with him, just so his parents will stop asking questions over Thanksgiving dinner. It turns out not to be the worst idea he's ever had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Terrible Life Choices

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kenjideath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenjideath/gifts).



> Obviously inspired by [this Craigslit post](http://www.dailydot.com/lol/felon-offers-himself-as-thanksgiving-date-on-craigslist/) that went viral about a guy willing to attend dinner to shut up whining parents. I also quote the post almost word for word within this.

Seth figured that once he came out to his family, they’d leave him alone about bringing someone home for the holidays. He figured his mom would look disappointed, and his dad wouldn’t look at him at all, and his cousins he’d gone to school with would stop trying to tag him in old photos on Facebook. It would be wrong to suggest he had been looking forward to being dismissed from his family, but they were a bit much for him sometimes. The twins had been his only solace for years, but when Brie had married Daniel, and Nikki had found John (even if he was really nervous about marrying her, and kept putting it off) it had been difficult for him to cope. He loved his cousins, and wanted them to be happy, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but think ‘why not me’?

Seth’s relationships never seemed to last long, no matter what he did. Sometimes he’d brought guys home, mostly older guys who called him ‘sweetheart’ at the dinner table and made his mom take him aside afterwards and ask if they were hurting him. They never were, but the worry on her face made Seth feel sick with guilt. The problem is, Seth knows he isn’t good enough. Not good enough for the love of his family, not good enough to have a boyfriend who loved him – and one day everyone was going to realise it.

So coming home for Thanksgiving was going to be another one of those adventures he’d been hoping to put off – he was nearly thirty, for fuck’s sake, did he really have to go and spend time with his parents again? It was getting dark outside the office windows, but he has his drafting light on, and isn’t really working much anyway, if he was honest, clicking through some recipes as he tried to work out something he could make easily for the family meal, and avoiding thinking about seeing his brother.

“You heading home this weekend?” a voice says, and Seth turns away from his computer screen to roll his eyes at Sasha. He surrounded himself with hot, incredible women, and he didn’t have the faintest idea why. “You look like you want to murder something. Workout not dealing with all those pent up daddy issues?”

“Thanks, Sasha, really helping here.” He grinds out between clenched teeth, taking his glasses off to glare at her. It was Tuesday evening, and he had one more day of peace in his own house, with his tiny dog, before he had to head back to Connecticut and his parents’ home, where his cousins and older brother would tease him the whole time, and he’d have to deal with pussy magnet Randy bragging about his latest conquests, and watch Brie and Nikki snuggle up with their partners. It didn’t help that his parents still acted like giggling teenagers around each other, and he was pretty sure his mom talked about his dad’s dick more than was usual for a woman in her late fifties – especially after a couple of glasses of wine.

“Hey, you could always take me home with you, I’ve always wanted to see how you fancy blue-bloods do the holidays.” Sasha says cheerily, like he isn’t throwing daggers at her with his eyes, “Or hey, there was this thing I spotted the other day, let me send you the link.” She taps hurriedly at her phone for a moment, and then his IM service flickers up, telling him she’s sent something over.

“Great, thanks.” He says, dryly, and lets her swoop over and kiss him on the top of the head.

“Don’t work too late, sweet thing, don’t want you getting wrinkly before you catch the one, do we?”

She dodges out of the doorway and disappears, cackling down the corridor before he can find something to throw at her, but he clicks the link anyway.

_It's Thanksgiving. Want to skip that long, insulting conversation about how youre still single? About how your parents really want more grand children? Well, look no further!_

_I am a 28 year old felon with no high school degree, and a dirty old van one year younger than me painted like Eddie Van Halen's guitar. I can play anywhere between the ages of 20 and 29 depending on if i shave. I'm a line cook and work late nights at a bar. If you'd like to have me as your stictly platonic date for Thanksgiving, but have me pretend to be in a very long or serious relationship with you, to torment your family, I'm game._

_I can do these things, at your request:_

_openly hit on other guests while you act like you dont notice._

_start instigative discussions about politics and/or religion._

_propose to you in front of everyone._

_pretend to be really drunk as the evening goes on (sorry, i dont drink, but i used to. alot. too much in fact. i know the drill)._

_Start an actual, physical fight with a family member, either inside or on the front lawn for all the neighbors to see._

_I require no pay but the free meal i will receive as a guest!_

_Willing to travel and fake gay or straight._

Seth has a horrible epiphany about how Sasha sees him, that she thinks he might be this desperate to take some complete stranger out of state, in his car – because he’s not travelling in a terrifying van, thank you very much – to put his parents off talking to him about the tick-tock of his biological clock. But the more he stares at it, the more he thinks that maybe, it’s not the worst idea he’s ever had.

He sends a quick message, before he can change his mind.

_Hey, about the thanksgiving thing. Male, 29, tired of being the single one. Out to parents, trying hard to disappoint them early. Happy to travel to Stamford for this? Will drive, but expect long evening of canapés and bullshit. Lemme know._

_Seth_

He switches off the work computer, gathers his belongings and rolls his sleeves down before he puts his jacket back on. He loves his job, designing is all he’s ever wanted to do, but sometimes he wonders if he would have found someone by now if he didn’t work late nights with people who are about as wild as organic low-fat yoghurt. Sure, he’s no better these days, his hair the one fight against corporate reality, with a swathe of his long, dark curls bleached a bright blonde, but it’s been growing out lately, to the point where it can’t be seen when he’s wearing his professional low bun, and he wonders if he can be bothered to put it back in. Maybe he’s getting old.

But back in the day, he’d done a few wild things – softcore porn, for a start, with his old school friend Marek, who now ran a Fortune 500 company of all things – and a few wild people along the way, but as he’d slowly realised that his parents were still trying to be proud of his sluttish abandon, he’d gone the other way, buckling down to architecture studies at college and getting himself a job which only required using a few of the strings his parents had made available to him. He was used to things being reachable, that he could achieve anything he wanted to – which is probably why it hurts, he supposes, that he can’t find anyone to settle down with. He doesn’t know what’s so wrong with him that he can’t be loved, that no one who’s ever tumbled him into bed ever stuck around for long enough to talk about feelings.

He switches his drafting table light off last, leaving the office dark as he heads out, hailing a cab because fuck the subway. His apartment is only a few blocks away, but he’s in a haze of his own thoughts, and doesn’t want to walk now the wind is getting up and he didn’t bring a coat. Getting home after a long day feels like sinking into a hot bath, which is exactly what he plans to do, as soon as he can remove the furry missile who’s leaping up at his knees as he comes through the door.

“Hey Kev,” he says, petting the tiny terrier and laughing as he licks his hands, “Just me and you against the world, buddy, is that how it’s gonna be?”

The dog just stares up at him with an expression that could be adoration or could be begging for food. Seth decides it’s the latter and puts some fresh food down in the bowl in the kitchen before stripping off his jacket and tie and going to run a bath. His phone chimes from his jacket pocket, and he backtracks to check that it isn’t something the office need him to do.

_Hey Seth,_

_Sure, I can do travel, if you’re happy to sit a car with a crazy guy. What out of the list did you want, cos I’ve never been arrested in CT before, and I’d like to keep that record going! When’d we travel, tomorrow or Thursday morning? Gimme a call to finalise?_

_Dean_

There’s a number at the end of the email, and Seth programmes it into his phone without thinking about it, naming it first just ‘Dean’ and then going back and adding little hearts around it, because Nikki and Brie have a horrible habit of stealing his phone. The bath’s nearly full when he sinks into it, iPad propped up on the counter so he can catch up on Game of Thrones, and he decides he’ll reply after he’s relaxed. After all, if he’s got to face his family in a few days, he needs all the time to himself he can get.


	2. Trial By Yorkie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kenji, I really hope you can forgive me for making Marek a bad guy. Maybe he matured in the intervening several years? Let's go with that.

Picking Dean up outside his apartment involves driving to the rough side of town and idling the engine with all the doors locked, because Seth likes to think he isn’t a snob, but he’s not all that keen to get mugged. When he texts Dean, a sandy-haired figure half jogs to the car, and waves his phone at the window, showing off the message Seth had just sent. He’s – hot, Seth thinks idly, as he unlocks the doors; a little rough trade, but he’s clean shaven, dressed in a shirt and slacks like Seth had asked, with a suit jacket slung over his arm – no tie, but he’d said he hated them, and as that would annoy his dad to no end, Seth was fine with it. What the guy hadn’t mentioned when he exchanged more info was that he clearly liked working out, because he has one of those bodies that a shirt just doesn’t sit well on, too broad in the shoulders and big on the biceps, though he nipped in at the waist really nicely.

“Seth, right? I didn’t just get picked up as a rent boy, did I, because I’m meetin’ someone, and you’re starin’ real creepily right now.”

Seth wipes the drool off his subconscious and ignored the little voice saying ‘this is the sort of man you should date’, because it sounds like his mom, and he’ll get enough of that later.

“Yeah, Seth, sorry. Dean, right?”

“I hope so, or I mugged some guy for his phone and now I’ve got a real weird thanksgivin’ date.”

Seth laughs, and pulls the car away from the kerb. The second he puts the car into drive, Kevin pokes his head out from the back seat, and Seth is gratified to hear a coo from the stranger in his car, before Dean coughs, trying to disguise it. He doesn’t actually push Kevin away, though, and the little dog clambers forwards over the centre console to settle himself firmly in Dean’s lap.

“Hey little buddy, you want to check out who’s fake datin’ your daddy, huh?” Dean says, scratching the terrier between the ears, and Seth tries not to make an ‘aww’ noise as Kev looks at the other man, “Didn’t daddy say you were called Kevin, hm? Who’s a good boy, Kev, is it you?”

Seth can’t help the smile growing on his face as Kevin wags his tail lazily at the attention, and Dean continues to stroke him.

“At least Kev’s helping, mom and dad would never believe we’re dating if he didn’t like you.”

Dean beams at that

“Ah, the seal of approval from the dog. The one family member you don’t want me to piss off today. So, tell me more about these people I need to upset.” He grins as he says it, and Seth is just fucking gone on those dimples.

“Okay,” Seth starts with the obvious one, “There’s Steph, my mom, she’s a perfectionist, but she’ll probably just get drunk within the first hour.”

“Insult the food, spill the wine.” Dean says easily, and Seth is struck by a really stupid brainwave, handing his cell phone over to the stranger in his car.

“Code is 2712, get onto Facebook and you can just – what are you doing?”

Dean holds the phone up, on the camera screen, and leans in close, close enough that Seth can smell some woodsy cologne, just enough that he wants to get closer and bury his nose in the collar of Dean’s shirt. Fuck, his brother’s right, he really does need to get laid.

“Smile, babe.” He says, and Seth finds his mouth curving up automatically as the fake shutter click sounds, too loud in the quiet car, and then Dean’s typing easily, beaming before switching to his own phone, clicking a few buttons, then going back to Seth’s.

“Oh my god,” Seth says, unable to hide the delight in his voice, “Did you just make us Facebook official?” He hadn’t even thought of that, hadn’t thought a stranger off Craigslist would be willing to go through that amount of hassle. He was just going to claim Dean hated technology.

“Complete with ‘on my way with the bae’ post, too,” Dean says, smugly, “Now, want me to work my way through your family on here and get to know ‘em?”

Seth smiles.

“You can get everyone’s name wrong at least twice, so just learn to tell the twins apart, they’re the only people I really care about making happy. And if we were dating, I would totally have shown you the pics of the three of us in college.”

“Which one got the boob job?” Dean asks, but he doesn’t sound judgemental about it, “No, wait, the one named after a cheese is the one with darker hair, s’at still true?”

Seth looks over at the man who has gently insulted his cousins and stolen his Facebook all before they are halfway to his parents’ house. Oh yeah, this was the right decision, Dean was going to drive his mom crazy. Kevin is still curled up in Dean’s lap, the man absently petting him – and then he freezes, pulling himself to sit up straighter.

“What?” Seth asks. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t left any nudes on his phone from when he used to send them to his now ex-boyfriend, so he’s not sure what Dean has seen that has made him look so terrified.

“You… have your mom on Facebook.” Dean says, in a slow, panicked tone.

“Uh, yeah.” Seth says, like it’s obvious, but he’s worked out what the problem is already, before Dean can verbalise it.

“Your mom is Steph McMahon-Helmsley. Your dad is Hunter McMahon-Helmsley – I’ve fuckin’ seen ‘em in magazines and shit. You didn’t tell me you were a fuckin’ celebrity.” His tone is accusatory, almost, and Seth feels himself bristle. The name isn’t the issue, he knows that, it’s everything that comes with the name.

“Well, so what?” he asks, defensively, “What fucking difference does it make?”

“I fuckin’ said I didn’t wanna get arrested. Shit, no wonder you insisted on the fuckin’ suit. No one’s gonna believe you’re fuckin’ me, this is fuckin’ ridiculous – “

“No.” Seth says, voice cold, “But they’ll all believe you’re fucking me, because my ex did that fucking tell-all and now everyone knows what a slut I am. Every tabloid ran the headline about what a pushy little bitch I am for cock, and so my parents will believe anything of me now.”

He busies himself with changing lanes, because he knows, just knows, that Dean will have seen the damn tapes.

 

When Seth left for college, he’d lost touch with Marek, his best friend all through high school, so coming back, newly out and determined to fuck his parents up about it, having Marek get back in touch was pretty cool. Marek had suggested some weird softcore porn thing – strictly fully clothed, nothing big – and Seth thought, yeah, it’d piss his parents off and prove that this whole being gay thing wasn’t a phase, and he’d get to do it with Marek. Marek, who he’d always wanted, even before he really knew that was what it was, Marek who knew him the best out of anyone.

The shoot was hotter than it had any right to be, and Seth found himself getting hard, awkwardly, although he guessed that was what the audience wanted. Grinding back against Marek had been awesome, and sure, Seth wasn’t ashamed that he was a little slutty. He was 22, of course he was a little slutty, that was the whole point.

When a few of the guys had come onto him, after the shoot, he hadn’t given a thought to Marek, with his little handheld camera, filming and taking shots; not in the showers, the locker room, the abandoned office that apparently no one used. Seth got fucked and manhandled and begged for more, and on the way home, in the passenger seat of Marek’s car, he’d said thank you.

They’d dated for two years, and then one day, Seth got a call from Marek saying he couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t keep up with Seth and his desperate need to be the best all the time, his constant corrections and desire to be the smartest person in the room. He’d still been crying when his parents had called, an hour later, to ask if he’d ever been filmed having sex.

 

“Power bottom.” Dean muses, half under his breath, and Seth hits the brakes, slamming them on so hard that he nearly causes a pile up, Dean dropping his phone in order to brace one hand on the dash and the other around Kevin. Seth makes a noise under his breath and puts the car back into drive, sliding them over to the side of the road, and stopping.

“Get out.” He spits, and he doesn’t even want to look at Dean, just watches Kevin whimper and scamper back into the back, “Now.”

Dean moves like he’s trying to catch Seth’s eye, but he turns his head and looks dead straight, eyes on the dark clouds on the horizon.

“Woah, princess, what’d I do?”

“The fuck do you think?” Seth snarls, and does turn to look this time. Dean actually looks sorry, and Seth hates that he’s still thinking about how hot he is when he should be furious, “You think I’m proud of that shit?”

Dean shrugs, and Seth wants to punch him.

“Nothin’ to be ashamed of ‘s far as I can see.” The stranger in his car says, like he has any idea what it’s like to know that half the people in your office have probably seen you get fucked at both ends in a grubby little shower room when you were twenty-two and should have known better, “I mean, you were hot. Still are, though the bleach streak is a little douchey.”

Seth’s mouth moves, but he doesn’t make any noise. On the one hand, Dean’s seen the tapes. On the other, he thinks Seth’s hot – which really shouldn’t even be part of the thought process right now. He tries to shake off the feeling that he’s not hearing something important.

“My childhood friend, my best friend, my boyfriend for two years – ”

“I met the guy once.” Dean says, airily, like it doesn’t matter, “I hope his jaw healed properly, but I don’t really care if it didn’t.”

Seth pauses.

“I didn’t hit him for you, though he fuckin’ deserved it for that. My friend edited the tapes for him, an’ then tried to pin the whole exposé on him, like he’d filmed it and shit. Changed his tune once I broke his face.”

Dean doesn’t look happy about having done it, just annoyed, and Seth’s suddenly aware that Dean must have known who he was the whole time, that this was all faked, this was all about getting him into the car and to get to his parents, it was –

“Breathe, princess, slow down. Listen to my countin’, try’n breathe with me…. One… that’s it… two… you can do it…”

Dean counts for him for what feels like a lifetime, but can’t be more than a few minutes, before Seth can get the panic attack under control.

“You knew who I was.” He croaks, scrabbling in the door pocket for his bottle of water, throat dry and rasping, “You knew the whole time.”

Dean shakes his head.

“Honestly, not until I saw the name. New surname now, new hair, and besides, I ain’t never thought I’d meet someone this fancy on the back of a Craigslist post.”

“There was a guy… a year later, some reporter, Solomon, and… he just wanted to do a story about my parents’ marriage. I found out the day I was meant to drive him up to see them.”

Seth watches Dean’s face twist, like he can’t imagine how awful that must have been, and the pity hurts, he doesn’t know why he said anything.

“Well, scout’s honour, I ain’t plannin’ anythin’ like that. Seems like you’ve had a lotta boyfriends who’ve done some cheap shit to you, but… I ain’t gonna.”

Seth smiles, weakly, grabbing his phone out of the footwell by Dean’s scuffed dress shoes, and plugs it into the car charger, tapping out a quick message to his mom that they might be a little later than planned.

“Hell, fake boyfriend, remember?” Dean says, brightly, and his grin makes something in Seth sit up a little straighter, “And there’s always time to get me arrested in Connecticut, princess.”

“Call me that again and you’ll certainly be spending a night in the cells.” Seth jokes, smile a little realer now.

Dean goes back to scrolling through Seth’s extended family on his phone as Seth pulls them back into the holiday traffic.

“Not over the state line yet, sweetheart.” Dean counters, and as Kevin comes back out to sit in the other man’s lap, Seth wonders how this stranger is one of the first people not to tell him that if you do porn, you’re asking for sex tapes to end up public. Feels a lot less like pity, and more like understanding. It feels good.


	3. Drive-By Dating

They’re about half an hour out when Dean puts his hand on Seth’s knee, and Seth jerks out of the thoughts he’s been wallowing in. None of them were good, and he’s glad of the interruption.

“Think I’ve got ‘em all sorted. Hope that Tyler guy’s gonna be there, he looks like fun to mess with.” Dean says, and Seth can hear that what he’d actually thought about Tyler was that he looked like the twinkiest twink to ever exist. Almost accurate, if you ignored Seth in his late teens.

Seth laughs, and Dean finally, almost reluctantly moves his hand, Seth brushing his hand over his knee where Dean’s had been, feeling the warmth of his skin still there. He seriously needs to get laid, because no one he doesn’t know should be getting him this hot under the collar. He turns the heat down in the car a little, hoping it will help cool the flush in his cheeks.

“It’s mostly just about my mom and dad, though. The rest of the family just need to see, so they stop asking mom about grandkids.”

Dean chuckles, and Seth looks at him, curiously, waiting for him to explain himself. There’s nothing particularly funny about how his parents expect him to find someone to settle down and start a family with.

“Nothing, just. You come out to your family and they still wanna ask bout grandkids?”

“No chance of my older brother settling down any time soon, at least they know I want a relationship, even if I can’t exactly make them work out.” Thanks, Seth thinks, for reminding me that I’m not good at keeping boyfriends, and the ones I do keep turn out to be the worst life choices. Even aside from doing softcore wrestling porn straight out of college.

“Criminal,” Dean says, like he’s not thinking.

“What?” Seth asks, wondering what he’s done this time.

“Just… you not bein’ snapped up by someone who treats you right. Well, that and your brother being called Randy.”

Seth punches Dean gently in the arm, and laughs.

“For god’s sake, don’t let my mom hear you say that, she’ll love you. Randall was my dad’s choice – so she named me after herself.”

Dean grins, and fuck, those fucking dimples ought to be illegal. Seth knew he was having a dry spell, had been having a dry spell since Solomon and the mess with Marek, but he had no idea he was this desperate to get fucked. He felt itchy in the worst way, like he’d need to find someone between now and Christmas. And all without it being someone who just wanted him for his name and a little notoriety. Randy didn’t care why his fucks wanted him, only that they did, but after Marek and Solomon had dug their claws in, Seth was done with people who just wanted a tale to tell.

 

Dean is surprisingly touchy-feely in the car, a hand on Seth’s knee when they run into traffic, on his arm when he asks to change the radio station, even tucking a little piece of Seth’s hair behind his ear after Seth had shrugged it back a couple of times.

“Getting handsy already?” he asks, trying to keep it nonchalant, though his heart’s pounding and he wants more of Dean’s hands on him. He really does need to get fucked in the worst way.

“Get used to it,” Dean says. “I doubt you’re usually shy about touching your boyfriends.”

“Given my history,” Seth finishes for him, icily, teeth clenched as the warm feeling from being touched like that, casual and easy, fades away.

“I actually meant with how you’re leanin’ into me, but yeah, let’s go with that,” Dean says, and Seth feels the blush rise.

“I – “ he starts, but does not finish, face red, trying not to say something stupid like ‘everyone else makes jokes about it’ or ‘if we weren’t nearly at my parents’ house, I would pull over and let you do anything you want to me’, or even ‘I’m starved for touch and yours feels so good’.

“You gotta stop thinkin’ the worst of me, princess, you’ll hurt my feelins.”

Seth lets his embarrassed smile fade, making sure he keeps his eyes on the road as he gets closer to their destination.

“Just pretty hard to trust anyone again, is all,” he says, and wonders why he feels he has to explain himself to someone he barely knows.

“I’ll bet. But that was, what, five years ago? You gotta start lettin’ people in again.”

“So you do remember,” Seth says, accusingly. He pauses to mull that over - if Dean knows the release date, then, “You watched them all?”

“The, uh, official and unofficial ones, yeah.” His reply is laced with guilt, and Seth flinches at the idea of the man next to him watching something that had only been filmed because he’d trusted the wrong guy, “Darlin’, don’t look at me like that, you were - still are - hot, and I was young and curious.”

Seth makes a tiny noise that isn’t agreement, but isn’t anything else, either, just a sound, unbidden, and keeps his eyes fixed on the road. If he looks over, he’ll see Dean’s earnest face, and he just isn’t ready for that right now.

“Look, princess,” Dean continues, “I can’t be the only guy you’ve met who spanked it to those videos. Just maybe the only one who’s been honest about it.”

Seth sighs, and takes a turning. They’re getting close to his parents’ house now, and he really, really doesn’t want to be upset or stressed before he has to walk in there and see his mom for the first time in eight months. He’s been planning a few ways to rile his parents up that Dean can help with, and he’s not in the mood to spend dinner sat next to someone who thinks his porn career - the planned one and the unplanned one - is something to laugh at, or something he’s enjoyed.

“I guess.” he says, finally, shrugging a little. He doesn’t elaborate.

“I ain’t about to apologise for it, but I don’t think any less of you for what you did. Figure the bits you didn’t know were gonna end up public were for the guy you were dating.”

“We weren’t, actually,” Seth says. “Not until after that shoot.” It had been a nice surprise, at the time, to have Marek want to date him, especially after he’d just had so many guys use him, but he figured Marek was into that sort of thing. Dean winces at his words, and Seth tries not to let it bother him.

“It was a shitty thing to do, and he’s a shitty guy for doin’ it.” Dean says, at last, and Seth lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, “And maybe I’m a shitty guy for watchin’ them, but I try not to be.”

That’s pretty much the nicest way anyone has ever talked about his career in porn. Seth knows he’s got pretty low standards – would have to, with Marek and Solomon under his belt – but no one’s ever thought that he wasn’t the worst person in that scenario. He’s had a lot of responses, which included ‘well, you did do porn’, ‘you were pretty slutty back then, huh?’ and ‘if you didn’t want anyone to see you naked, why did you let him film it?’ and he’s never known how to answer those. Dean’s almost acting like he doesn’t care, or that it’s not important, but Seth knows that, really, that’s the most important he’ll ever be – four videos, each no more than twenty minutes long, and a final two-minute video where he sits nearly motionless and just smiles up at Marek, who’s petting his hair, clearly having had the time of his life. He thinks he hates that one the most.

“Just try not to mention you’ve seen my porn until my mom’s on her second glass of wine?” he asks, “I know this is about stopping the questions, and being the worst fucking boyfriend I’ve ever had, but that might be too much for her to take.”

“Darlin’, I wasn’t gonna mention it at all,” Dean says, mouth a wide grin of teeth that Seth just knows is gently mocking him. “I don’t know how you were raised, but in my house, we didn’t talk double penetration at the dinner table.”

Seth groans as he turns off, pausing and waiting for the huge set of wrought iron gates to open, slowly, at the prompt of a push to his remote. He hears Dean make a low whistle, and wants to duck down in his seat. The house is going to be even worse, if this is how Dean reacts to the fucking gates.

“You,” he says, ominously, as they moved slowly along the gravel driveway, “Haven’t met my mom.”


	4. Hug Everyone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday Kenji! <3

The house is pretty much what he’d expected when he’d been told that Thanksgiving attire was, at the very least, suit pants and a collared shirt. Big, expensive-looking, like the cars parked in the driveways, a little pompous and overdone, but nothing too gaudy or showy. This was old money, not new money; it didn’t need to scream, it just said things quietly and the people around it listened. As Seth manoeuvres his shiny Lexus between a Benz and something European he doesn’t recognise but probably cost more than his house, Dean suddenly feels very out of place – Seth has been pretty easy-going in the car, all mentions of his not-so illustrious past aside, but his parents are sure to be a different matter.

“Fuck fuck fuck shit fuck.” He mutters, and Seth gives him an odd look. “Getting the curse words out now,” he explains, and Seth grins at him.

“Remember, you’re not my actual boyfriend. You’re not here to impress my parents. The opposite, in fact. They’re meant to hate you.”

“Seemed a lot easier when I didn’t know who you were,” Dean says, off-hand, and accepts the hand Seth puts on his shoulder, leaning into it a little because, well, fake boyfriends starts before they get out of the car, right? A curtain twitches in one of the windows, and Dean makes even more of an effort to look like he’s getting cosy.

“Ready to be at your most abrasive?” Seth asks as they get out of the car and Seth digs a couple of bags out of the trunk, clipping Kevin’s leash on and handing it to Dean. Dean just grins at him and pinches his ass with his free hand, making the slimmer man yelp and jump.

“Oh, princess, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” He says, but Dean wonders if he’s all talk really, because he’s pretty shit scared that Seth’s billionaire parents won’t believe their son is dating him, or worse, that they will and they’ll take their disappointment with that out on Seth, who seems like pretty good guy.

“Shit,” Seth says, suddenly, as he locks the car, and Dean looks sideways at him, ignoring the way Kevin’s tugging at the leash, eager to be inside already, “We don’t have a fucking story of how we met.”

“Fucked you in the men’s room of your gym.” Dean says promptly, and then flinches, because he realises that was his favourite of the scenes that had ‘leaked’ of Seth. He had always figured it was one of the last ones shot, maybe the last before the small, two-minute clip, because Seth had looked… done. His hair, previously damp, was a fluffy halo around his head, he was barely hard, and he still looked up as he sucked the cock of the man holding the camera – and he looked so damn reverent about it. Too late, Dean realises that the man behind the camera there was probably Marek, the ex who told it all.

“Yeah, they’ve heard that one,” Seth says, quietly, and Dean can’t help it, he puts an arm around him and pulls him in close. Seth goes with it, curving into Dean’s body, almost as if he doesn’t know he’s doing it.

“We met one of the nights I was workin’ at Cesaro’s, and you wanted to compliment the chef, but I came out instead,” he suggests, as a peace offering.

“That’s where you work?” Seth seems to be stuck on the details, and Dean’s a little offended that Seth doesn’t sound like he believes him, but then his tone softens, “I love it there. I’m amazed we didn’t run into each other sooner.”

“Lowly sous-chef,” Dean says, still keeping Seth close to his body, “They don’t let me out to be seen by the elite paying top dollar for their salmon, I might put ‘em off their food.”

“Or help them work up a different sort of appetite,” Seth replies, a wicked grin creeping over his face. He ducks under Dean’s arm and heads towards the house, “Come on, we can’t put it off any longer.”

“We could pretend we’re stuck in traffic?” Dean whines, but ambles along, Kevin trotting to keep up with him, “We don’t have to be here, we could just get a hotel, darlin’, still an option.”

The front door opens.

“Too late, we all heard the car pull up.” A woman’s voice says, and Dean looks into the face of Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley.

 

He’s led into the room and Steph makes a start on the introductions. Dean ensures he makes eye contact with the first people he meets, and makes sure he doesn’t shake hands, instead pulling two disquietingly scary men into hugs like he’s known them all his life.

“Mark, Kane! Good to meet ya, didn’t we run in the same street gang once? Nah, must’ve been someone else, you guys would’ve saved me a broken jaw that one time!”

He hears Seth stifle a laugh behind him at that, and there’s a curve to Mark’s mouth that says he might be hiding a smile, too. Kane, a big demon of a man all in red, looks disgruntled, but Dean rather suspects he always looks like that.

“I’m pretty sure my brothers never ran in a street gang.” A voice rings out, and the rest of the room goes quiet. Seth’s hand tightens on Dean’s waist, almost painfully so, and then releases, leaving Dean alone in an ocean of expensive aftershave and the scent of cooking food. So. This will be Hunter.

“Dad!” Dean exclaims, turning and embracing the man like he’s know him all his life. “I can call you dad, right, I mean, I know it’s a little weird with Sethie here callin’ me daddy an all, but – “

“You can call me Hunter, Dean. Dad might be a bit far for the first time we’re meeting.” Hunter says, steadfastly, and Dean lets go. The man’s presence is intimidating, but warm, and he’s got a twinkle in his eyes that suggests he doesn’t mind the joke, or the hug, “Besides, if Seth’s calling you daddy, I couldn’t ruin those kinky sex games for him.”

Dean could almost gape in astonishment, but Seth’s burrowing his head into Dean’s neck, wrapping his arms around him.

“Dad, oh my god, can we at least sit down before you start?” He’s bright pink, and Dean thinks he’s never seen anything more adorable. He kisses the top of that fluffy head, because he can, and because he wants to, then grins at Hunter.

“Hunter, baby, if you think that’s kinky, you don’t know your son very well.”

There’s a moment of absolute silence, and then a shriek of laughter from a woman in the corner – Brie, Dean thinks, although he isn’t sure he’d know that if her twin wasn’t standing next to her – and then whole room relaxes.

“Oh, my god, Seth, he’s perfect, I love him, when’s the wedding?” Dean can’t help but grin at that as Nikki saunters over by her twin, and he kisses each of them on the hand.

“Nikki, Brie. Pleasure. Sethie’s told me all about you two little minxes.”

“Not sure we’re talking marriage just yet, Nik.” Seth says, like he’s desperately trying to pull back her enthusiasm, but the twins are having none of it, surrounding Dean and cooing over him.

“Nonsense, _Sethie_. If you’ve been talking to him about your kinks, I’m sure wedding bells can’t be too far away.” Brie adds, poison dripping from every word.

Dean cannot wait to get Seth alone and ask him what these kinks are that his family know about, because this sounds like conversation for the ages. Seth is bright pink and still burrowed into his side like Dean can protect him from the rest of this madhouse – like they’re not his family, Dean thinks. Like he’s worried what they’re going to think.

“Anyone who can keep up with Seth practically needs a medal.” A snide voice chimes in, and Dean feels Seth stiffen against him.

“Randy, right? Get anyone up the duff this year?” Dean thinks that’s probably a good opening gambit, and this huge man with a shaved head slaps him on the back, almost dislodging Seth from his side, “Nah? Bought ya something, just in case.”

The big man laughs as he hands him a three pack of condoms.

“That won’t last me longer than an hour or so, but thanks for thinking of me, brother.”

Dean finds himself looking around the room. Sure, they all look stuffy, overdressed, and he feels like the poorest piece of dirt in the room, but they’re smiling, and Seth’s leaning into him like he’s being circled by a pack of starving dogs. Dean doesn’t know a lot about family, not having much of it to speak of, but he’s pretty sure these people grinning at him don’t mean Seth any harm. They seem pretty calm about the way he’s acting, and he’s admittedly got a few more tricks up his sleeve, but… maybe making them hate him is going to be harder than it seems.

“Seth,” Stephanie interrupts Dean’s thoughts, “Why don’t you take Dean upstairs and get him settled – you’ve both got overnight bags, I hope? You’re in your old room, baby, in the big bed. You can go change for dinner, if you want.”

There’s something about the way she says change for dinner that makes Seth’s breathing stutter, before he extricates himself from Dean’s arm and smiles at his mom.

“Sure,” he says, but his smile is brittle, and there’s nothing like the relaxed grin he had in the car about it, “We’ll be down in an hour or so.”

“No sex, dear.” Stephanie says, and that’s completely the wrong thing, Seth stiffening even more, his mouth one thin line. Dean steps closer, tries to touch him again, but Seth shrugs him away, already heading to the stairs. Dean shoots a helpless look at Stephanie, as Hunter wraps an arm around her and she puts her hand to her mouth, but she just shakes her head.

“We’re not… always the best parents.” Hunter says, quietly, and the room is so silent that the slam of the door behind Seth makes Dean jump. “You’d better go after him. He’ll need you.”


	5. Dress to Impress

Dean hurries to follow Seth out of the door, so as not to get lost in the maze of a house, but Seth’s waited for him at the top of that stairs. Something about his posture says he doesn’t want to be stood there, shifting awkwardly from one foot to another, and then he’s moving, before Dean even reaches the top of the stairs. He’s slowed down by having their bags in his hands, but not by much, and it’s still a hard task for Dean to keep up with him. Finally Seth barrels through a door that stays ajar after he goes through, and Dean closes it behind himself as he realises they’re in a large bedroom, half-decorated as a moody teenager would, and half like someone’s mom had come in to clean up after them.

“Don’t get any ideas.” Seth spits at him, as he throws their bags on the big, antique-looking four poster bed and sits on the edge, burying his fingers in his hair in a way that looks painful, “She doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about.”

Dean doesn’t have a clue what to say to that – he was brought in to tangle up family dynamics, not easily untangle them and mend fences. Clearly there’s more than meets the eye to being part of a family of gym and hotel magnates, and he has exactly zero experience in these matters. Instead of saying anything, he looks around the room, trying to gather his thoughts, and notices one of the huge built-in closets doesn’t have a door, and is overflowing with skirts, dresses, neat pantsuits and other flimsy things he wouldn’t know how to name. 

The rest of the room reeks of old money, all dark wood and sleek lines, a wall that’s almost nothing but mirror, although there’s a torn poster proudly emblazoning that the owner of this room used to be really fucking into A Day to Remember that breaks up the reflection. Two of the walls are a rich, dark purple that could almost be mistaken for black in the right light, and Dean suspects that’s how the owner of the room was convinced in the first place. The remaining wall that isn’t mostly mirror is a bright, stark white, and Seth looks weird outlined against it, pinstriped suit pants and charcoal grey shirt making the bleached section of his hair, slowly uncurling from the neat bun, the only part of him that vanishes into the paint. He’s gorgeous, Dean thinks, and almost has to catch his breath as he realises he’s staring.

“The cousins store their clothes here?” he asks, instead of saying something stupid like kiss me, or maybe your mom was right to worry, or come here and let me tear those expensive clothes off you. Seth follows his gaze to the clothes spilling out of the closet, and flinches.

“Not exactly,” Seth says, “but they did always borrow things from me. I used my allowance to buy most of this, and now it just sits around here.”

Dean pauses with his mouth open for a moment. Seth won’t meet his eyes, and he doesn’t know what to say, so he closes his mouth again, and just watches as Seth stands in front of the female-coded clothing, and strokes his hand down one of the dresses.

“They’re beautiful,” Dean says, eventually, because he doesn’t know what else to do. “Do you get to wear them much anymore?”

Seth turns to face him with fire in his eyes.

“What the FUCK do you think? You think I get to go to work three days a week in skirts and heels and no one bats a fucking eyelid? You think I show up at Cesaro’s for a fucking date in a dress? You think I haven’t heard enough comments about how girlish my figure is from behind, or how my hair looks gay, you think I’d offer people more ammunition to throw at me when one search of my name gives them all the material they need to drag me down?”

Not for the first time since meeting Seth, Dean wants to find Marek Brave and break his jaw all over again, find whoever that Solomon guy was and give him the same treatment, wants to hold Seth close and stop anyone else from hurting him. But if his mom had the chance to throw away all of these clothes, and didn’t, then he’s not sure Seth’s parents really minded their son’s crossdressing habit, any more than they seem to mind that he’s brought home someone completely unsuitable.

“Guess not. So this what your mom meant, about changing for dinner?” Dean asks, settling himself on the bed next to Seth. He looks up when the bed dips, and Dean considers putting a placating hand on his knee, before thinking better of it. He doesn’t want to be accused of coming on to him, although frankly, this is already so much more of a minefield than he was expecting from putting up a stupid ad that he’s almost ready to give up and head home. Seth, though… Seth needs someone, from the way he looks at his own parents like they’re monsters, and Dean isn’t prepared to leave him alone.

“I suppose she thinks you’re into it, thinks they can all laugh at me if I come down in a skirt, and….” Seth trails off, and Dean’s hand hovers over his shoulder, jerking back as Seth flinches before he even makes contact.

“Why the fuck not, then?” he asks, and ignores Seth gaping at him. “If that’s what they expect, then fuck it, let’s go down there with you in the prettiest outfit you can find, and we’ll show them all that I’m not ashamed of any part of you.”

Seth smiles weakly, and Dean grins back, all mischief.

“Come on, princess,” he says, and gestures at the clothes again, “Show me just how pretty you can be.”

 

When they walk back into the drawing room – who the fuck has a drawing room, Dean wonders to himself – there’s an audible gasp from a couple of members of the family. Dean has to admit, when Seth had pulled out the outfit, he hadn’t been sure how it would work, especially as Seth’s beard meant he wasn’t about to look like a woman.

Seth had said that wasn’t the point, wasn’t why he did it, and slipped off his suit pants, revealing shaved legs that Dean wanted to run his hands down. He folded them together in his lap, instead, and watched Seth slide into a rust-coloured skirt that hit just above the knee, with opaque white woollen tights, and a white cashmere sweater that looked so soft, Dean wanted to stroke it even before it was stretched over Seth’s gym-honed body. The flat brown boots he pulls on look comfortable yet elegant, and Dean spares a thought that Seth manages to dress better than him even when he’s trying what should be a completely alien form of clothing.

Apparently it isn’t about being a woman, and it isn’t explicitly a sexual thing, either. Sometimes, Seth just wanted to wear skirts, just felt more comfortable in dresses and silk scarves. Dean doesn’t pretend to understand, but he does like how Seth looks, feminine-coded, and the mascara on already dark lashes making those dark eyes even deeper helps even more before a red-tinted balm is slicked on, and Dean wants nothing more than to kiss him and smudge the perfect application. Apparently this is a thing he didn’t know he had.

The gasp upon Seth’s entrance to the drawing room, with Dean now wearing his suit properly, although with his top two buttons undone and no tie, comes from Tyler, the twinky little cousin who must have arrived sometime when Dean was upstairs watching Seth turn himself from one masterpiece to another.

“Seth! You said you weren’t doing that anymore, when did you get the chance to put this little number together?” he coos, and then glances over at Dean, “And who’s the uggo?”

“Just a little something I threw together,” Seth mumbles, looking at his feet, but Tyler doesn’t know when to stop, sashaying forwards to let his fingers play at the collar of Seth’s sweater. Dean doesn’t think he’s met someone who genuinely sashays before, and he raises an eyebrow at Tyler, who sneers back at him.

“That’s Dean, Seth’s new boyfriend,” Nikki says, pulling Tyler away gently, “And speaking of, you haven’t introduced your friends to Seth yet.”

Dean exchanges nods with a grinning black guy standing next to someone who could be Tyler in ten years, and who winks at Dean before mouthing ‘blowjob?’ and tilting his head to the door of the room, before the other guy smacks him in the shoulder.

“Xavier, and Dolph,” Tyler says, waving a hand like they’re not important, “But I want to hear more about slutty Sethie’s new sex friend.”

Seth goes still next to Dean, gripping his hand, and he has to bite his lip before he speaks to this bratty child. Once he thinks he can compose his thoughts, he steps forward, letting go of Seth’s hand for a moment.

“And which one of the two you’ve brought do you fuck, Tyler? No, let me guess, the one who’s too old for you but looks as much like you as you could find, because your ego is the biggest thing about you.”

There’s a frozen pause before Dean feels a hand on his shoulder and turns around to Kane, too close and face sombre.

“That’s my son there, Deano,” he says, and Dean braces himself for the punch. “And I’m sorry he doesn’t believe in manners.”

The big man turns away to look at his son, and Dean starts breathing again. Kane’s hands are the size of his face, and he has no desire to get into a brawl in the middle of a Connecticut mansion.

“Daddy, I’m not being rude, I’m telling the truth.” Tyler simpers, and Kane laughs, a gravelly, dark sound.

“Tyler, ‘daddy’ doesn’t get you out of trouble with me like it does with Dolph. Now apologise to Dean, and apologise to your cousin, too. We know who the slut is in this family.”  
Seth makes a tiny noise of hurt when his uncle says that, and Dean feels him press closer, warm breath on the back of his neck. He finds one of Seth’s hands with his own, and holds it carefully. He doesn’t know why no one in this fucking family talks about anything, but it’s clear they’ve no idea how screwed up Seth is over the whole leaked sex tape thing, or they wouldn’t keep throwing around certain words like they don’t mean anything.

“….I didn’t mean it, Seth.” Tyler says, and for a moment, the act drops, and Dean can see a shrewd individual who really is fond of Seth. “Come on, you know I don’t think that. Like dad says, I’m the easy one… and proud of it.”

By the time he finishes the sentence, the mask is back in place; careless debutante millionaire who thinks with his dick. Dean likes him a hell of a lot more now he knows how much of it is just for show.

“I know,” Seth says, softly, disentangling from Dean and standing on his own, shaking his head lightly so his loose curls fall a little more perfectly. “Now introduce me to the new one, yeah?”

Dean watches as Tyler leads Seth away to meet Xavier, who beams at him and starts talking about music theory. Apparently Dolph, the lookalike, is a known partner of Tyler’s, because Seth greets him with a short hug. 

“You’re good for him,” Kane says quietly, by his ear, and Dean looks into the big man’s face again. “Look after him? None of us seem to have done a good job.”

Before Dean can agree, he’s gone, surprisingly light on his feet for a mountain of a man, leaving Dean to lean against the wall and take in the groups of people around him. He’s not sure how he’s going to turn them all against him when they all appear to be rooting for him – but maybe dinner will give him more of a chance to do what Seth asked him for.


	6. Thanksgiving Punch

Dinner is a fussy affair, and Dean rolls his eyes obnoxiously at the number of forks on the table, before picking one at random and waving it at Seth, as everyone starts to load their plates with food.

“What d’you think, too big?” he asks, with a wicked grin. Seth pauses, Tyler watching them and giggling from behind his hand. Dolph and Xavier look faintly amused, but Dean can see something uncertain and tense in Stephanie’s eyes, and so he goes with it. “I mean, I’ve had bigger up my ass, obviously, but I think if we want me to sit tomorrow, we should take it easy.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, he knows it is, and Seth’s face goes very, very blank for a moment. Dean thinks he hears Hunter mutter ‘fuck’ under his breath, but doesn’t turn away from Seth to find out.

“I think,” Seth starts, and has to stop and take a sip of water, swallowing hard, before raising his voice, “I think you’re being conservative, babe, you can take a hell of a lot more than that.” With that, he smiles, and Dean feels their legs brush under the table.

“Wonderful spread, mom, who’d you order in from?” Dean asks, sure to cause trouble in any family,  but Steph just laughs.

“Oh thank goodness, Seth, you’re the first one to bring home someone smart enough to know I couldn’t cook all of this!” she says, smiling, and the big side of beef sat next to Nikki leans over.

“I complimented her on her cooking,” he says, and Dean looks at him, like an overdressed manchild in a suit, and decides he’d probably hate him if he met him at the gym. Here, he might be an easy target.

“And I asked if she had anything vegan,” a slim, bearded man says, from Brie’s side, and Dean looks at him, curiously.

“Vegan? Fuck, I knew you people were rich, I didn’t know you were stupid, too!” He waits for the silence, but instead, Mark and Kane laugh hugely from the other end of the table.

“Well said, Deano, well said – too much rabbit food, no wonder Daniel hasn’t put any babies in our Brie yet!”

Fuck, Dean thinks, there’s a minefield I don’t want to get into – but that’s what he’s here for, he supposes.

“I know how you feel, Daniel, Seth and I try really hard, too,” he says, and Seth laughs next to him, a sharp, cackle of a sound that Dean instantly hates and wants to hear more of.

“Dean cooks, so of course he’d know,” Seth says, and Dean looks at him for a second, thinks about those bare legs under that skirt, and feels Seth’s broad shoulder touch his own. “Not like you two, you’re hopeless.”

“Ooh, he cooks! I need a man who can look after me properly,” Tyler trills from further down the table, and Dean watches Kane take a gulp from his wine glass. “Are there more where you found him, do tell!”

Xavier looks patiently amused at his boyfriend trying to pick up someone else, but Dolph looks disgruntled, and Dean immediately pegs him as the person to needle for the biggest chance of a scene.

“I thought Fandango cooked?” Seth asks, and Dean looks at him, askance. “Oh, Tyler’s always got a few people, never less than two – did you drop Dango, or…?”

“He’s gone home with his girlfriend,” Xavier offers, when Tyler just snarls and helps himself to food without answering. Dean loads his own plate up, too. “I mean, Summer’s Tyler’s girl, too, but the two of them have this thing going where they help Dango’s parents think he’s straight, so he can siphon off his trust fund.”

“It’s a terrible thing when parents can’t be accepting,” Hunter rumbles, from the opposite end of the table, and Dean quirks an eyebrow.

“Tell me about it, you never know how shitty life is until you’re sleeping in an alley over Thanksgiving,” he says, and then replays his sentence. Fuck. Seth’s arms wrap around him and he lifts Dean’s chin gently.

“Not this year,” he says, seriously.

“Mistletoe!” chirps Brie, and Dean could actually stab her and her little hippy boyfriend with one of the far too many forks, as she leans over the huge table to hold mistletoe over them. “Now you have to kiss!”

“Brianna!” Mark snaps, and there’s something in his eyes that makes Dean thinks this man might have been a street fighter, once, or something terribly dangerous, because he looks like he’s risen from the dead just to exact revenge on his own kid. “Sit. Down.”

The lights flicker for a second, and when they’re back up properly, Brie’s back in her seat, and Seth’s let go of Dean’s chin. He isn’t quite sure what happened, but he’s glad Brie didn’t get to push them any further.

“Do help yourself, Dean, your plate looks very empty,” Steph twitters, and drains a glass of wine. Seth catches his eye, and puts two fingers on Dean’s thigh, carefully. Two glasses. Ah. This is where the fun starts, then. Dean pretends to sip his own wine, as the hostess refills hers, casting a coy glance at her husband. “So, you cook, yes? Anything else you do, or does satisfying my son take up the rest of your time?”

“I work weird hours, we don’t see each other as often as we should,” Dean says, because Seth stiffens beside him. “That’s how we met, actually. I work at Cesaro’s.”

“As what, a busboy?” Randy asks, from his seat next to his father, who turns and looks at his progeny as if he’d like to punch him into orbit. “Please, they wouldn’t hire you, look at you. Mom, how come Seth’s allowed to bring home – “

“Randall Keith Orton McMahon-Helmsley, you can close your mouth right now, or you can go to your room.” Hunter says, and his tone brooks no argument. Nevertheless, Randy tries, a cocky grin on his face.

“What? I’m just saying, if Seth wanted to bring home a rent boy, he could have picked someone – “

Dean doesn’t realise he’s standing up until his chair falls over behind him, a slam of noise that quietens the rest of the conversation around the table.

“You. Me. Outside,” he says, and feels like his tongue’s too big for his mouth. “I don’t have a record it this state yet, let’s make it for assaultin’ a billionaire’s kid, how ‘bout it?”

Randy stands up, too, his chair screeching across the floor, and Steph’s trying to wave her hands to stop this, but Dean’s blood is boiling.

“Oh, hit a nerve, did I?” Randy sneers, dropping expensive cufflinks on the table and rolling his sleeves up. “What, you get paid to fuck? That what Seth’s doing, trying the other side of the equation?”

Dean’s around the table too quickly, and he’s got Randy by the tie, hauling his face in close, the other man clearly startled,

“You can apologise, or we can settle this the way I wanna settle it, shitbag.”

“I’d do what the man says, Randall,” Mark drawls from too close behind Dean, but he doesn’t turn around, not yet. “He doesn’t look like the type to back down.”

“Fuck, man, I’m sorry, just a fucking joke, of course you’re not – “

“Not to me,” Dean snarls, “To Seth.”

Silence falls around the dinner table, and Dean feels Mark step back, sees Hunter step away from behind Randy, hears one of the twins gasp.

“Look, Seth knows I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just brother shit.” Randy says, laughing now, like he thinks it’s all a big joke. “You don’t mind, do you, Seth?”

Dean chances a look at Seth; glorious, gorgeous Seth, in his soft sweater and tight skirt, the way his blond streak curls, and the way his face is shuttered, shut down, and he looks like he wants to be sick.

“No, I know what you think of me,” Seth says, quietly. “I know what you all think of me. Excuse me.”

With that, he flees the table, and Dean lets go of Randy to follow him. He gets two paces away before he strides back, clocks Randy in the nose, and then turns to follow Seth. He hopes he doesn’t get lost before he can find the big bedroom and his upset fake boyfriend. Fake, he reminds himself. This is all fake, you’re not meant to be defending his honour.

“Sorry to ruin dinner,” he says, on his way out of the door, and the funny thing is, he almost means it.


	7. Hot Dog

Seth doesn’t wait for Dean this time, heading up the stairs and into his old room, closing the door carefully behind him. Kevin wakes up from his nap on the bed with a quiet ‘whuff’ of confusion, before Seth gathers him to his chest and holds him tightly. The little dog squirms, but not very much, though Seth puts him down when he realises he’ll be getting dog hair all over his sweater. He sighs. So much for dressing pretty and not being the family embarrassment, he guesses.

He strips off his clothes, putting the sweater in the dry clean pile and the rest into the laundry hamper, then slips into soft cotton pyjama pants and an old shirt he hasn’t worn since college that he finds at the back of a drawer. There are some benefits to his mom never throwing anything out.

“How did it come to this, Kev, huh? How did I become the sort of person who can’t sit through one evening of family time without having to make dramatic exits, leaving my fake boyfriend to pick up the slack?”

He flops down on the bed, face first, and listens to Kevin not answering him, though he does settle down close enough that Seth can stroke him without having to move from his slump.

“You’re a good dog, aren’t you? You always know what I need, although right now I need to get laid like you wouldn’t fucking believe.” Kevin yips, and Seth grins, despite himself. “Easy for you to say, bud, you got your balls cut off years ago, some of the rest of us have needs.”

He rolls over onto his back, and lets Kevin settle in on his chest. It wasn’t all bad, he supposes, dinner had been palatable, Uncle Mark and Uncle Kane seemed to like Dean – which is a bad thing, he reminds himself, he wants the whole family to hate him – but at least he needled John and Daniel, who need shaking up, and his mom might like him, but his dad was totally not convinced, right? Seth growls under his breath, which makes Kevin perk one ear up from his lazy position, then drop it again. It’s no good, his whole family fucking loves Dean, and all Seth can think is that he’s never had a boyfriend so attentive, or caring, or who bothers to check he’s okay.

“Not that he’s come up this time,” Seth complains to Kevin. “He might be really fucking hot, but he’s not my boyfriend, and he wouldn’t want to be, and he’s just in this for a free meal and a good laugh, so stop fucking acting like you care about what he thinks of you, stop thinking with your dick, and just make it through the rest of the holiday weekend without offering to blow him, or breaking down in tears, okay Seth?”

Kevin makes a sound and jumps off his chest, padding to the door – which is open, because of course it is, and Dean’s stood right there. He walks in, and shuts the door behind him.

“Sorry, took me a while to… find the room,” he says, voice gruff, and Seth wants to melt into the bed in shame.

“Yeah, house is big.” Seth says, stupidly, hoping like hell Dean hasn’t heard any of what he’s been saying to himself, but the spreading grin on the other man’s face says otherwise. Seth takes a moment to look at him, bright blue eyes sparkling under a mop of unruly ginger-blonde curls, two days of stubble on his cheeks, and filling out a suit like no one would fucking believe. Seth almost can’t believe he’s never run into Dean at Cesaro’s, never seen him working in the kitchen, because he’s sure if he had, he would have remembered. Cesaro is an old friend of the family, and Seth wonders, now, if he’ll have to stop going there. He’d miss the pigeon dishes the most, he thinks. The spelt risotto was really good.

“So, you think I’m hot…?” Dean leads, and Seth can feel his cheeks reddening, and he remembers he’s still wearing make-up, uses the pretence of finding a make-up wipe to get him standing, with his back to Dean as he rummages, before dragging one out of an ancient pack, half-dry, and scrubbing at his face with it. “Nah, c’mon, I heard it.”

“Just forget it, okay?” Seth asks, without turning around, still scrubbing at his mascara. It was a mistake to use the waterproof one, clearly. “I was talking to Kev.”

“I’d be worried if I thought you’d found your dog hot, princess,” Dean teases, and Seth can feel his mouth wanting to curve at the edges, against his better judgement. “What’d I get you for our first anniversary, a tail buttplug?”

Seth loses the battle, cracking up into the cackle he’s always hated as Dean comes to stand behind him.

“You’re awful,” Seth says, when he can breathe again.

“Look, s’long as you don’t offer to blow me while cryin’, we can handle this, princess,” Dean says, and Seth wants to cringe back, but Dean’s drawing him into a hug, and for a moment it just feels so good to be held steady, to be enveloped in warm arms, to feel like someone cares if he’s there, present, or just a shell of himself. “I just wanna help, s’all I’m here for.”

Seth sniffles a little bit, and feels Dean hold him just a little closer, tells himself it isn’t all for show, and that he does feel a little tearful. It isn’t just that he likes the warmth of Dean’s skin through the thin cotton of his shirt, or the smell of Dean’s hair, or the way his stubble feels against Seth’s cheek. It’s got nothing to do with that, he tells himself, so he’s absolutely not getting a little bit hard before Dean pulls away.

“I didn’t mean to leave you with my family,” Seth says, quietly, and is absolutely shocked when Dean tilts his chin up and kisses him, just a brief touch of lips, before stepping back.

“Fuck, I… I ain’t gonna says I didn’t want that, but – shit, sorry Seth.” He stumbles over his words, and Seth wishes he didn’t find it cute, didn’t find it endearing, didn’t wish that they were dating for real.

“Let’s just forget about it, okay? I just want today to be over.”

There’s a knock at the door, and both of them jump, Dean turning faster, and heading to the door to wrench it open.

“What?” he snaps. Seth tries not to giggle at Dean so clearly rattled about someone catching them in the act that they’re supposed to be playing anyway. He goes to the door and wraps an arm around Dean’s waist, tucking in at his side like it’s the most natural thing in the world – and goes stiff when he spots his brother. “Oh. It’s you.”

“I’m sorry,” Randy says, before anyone else can get a word in. “I’m sorry I say stupid, shitty things, I forget how sensitive you are about it, okay? No one else gives a fuck that you did porn, just you, and sometimes I forget you think it’s a big deal.”

“Did porn?” Dean says, coldly, each word like a lead weight. “That’s what you think – “

Seth pinches his side, and she shuts up.

“Thanks, I guess,” he says, nodding at his brother. “Tell mom I’m sorry I ran out on dinner?”

“Oh, she’s four glasses in, you’re not missing much,” Randy says airily, and Seth winces. Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley drunk is a force to be reckoned with. “She’s got Tyler telling us about Fandango and Summer right now, but it’s only a matter of time before all her answers in Pictionary are dad’s dick drawn to look like a cocktail sausage.”

Seth winces at the imagery.

“Still, tell her I’m sorry,” he says, curling back into Dean’s side. “You know how it is.”

“Yeah, christen the childhood bed,” Randy mutters, looking bored already as he edges away. “See you in the morning.”

Seth closes the door, and Dean looks at him, long and hard.

“Why do your family think you did porn?” he asks, eventually, and Seth signs, going back over to the bed to flop dramatically on it.

“Because I did?” he tries, hoping that will get him out of this. No such luck.

“Cyberfights wasn’t porn. What Marek did, that was porn, only you never agreed on distribution. I know that… there was some rumours about lawyers, Marek got scared, blamed it on my buddy, but the charges were dropped. You never fuckin’ told ‘em?”

“I figured it was less embarrassing if I just admitted that I’d agreed to it, instead of dragging the family name through the mud any further,” he says, and wriggles under the blankets. “Can I just get some sleep?”

Dean makes a face like he doesn’t want to let it drop, but does so with the shrug of his shoulders.

“Sure,” he mutters, finally, “Toss me a blanket and pillow? Imma go brush my teeth and change. Your mom showed me where the bathroom was.”

By the time he comes back, in pyjama pants and nothing else, Seth’s studiously pretending to be asleep, but he cracks open an eye to watch the play of Dean’s back muscles as he sets up a pile of blankets and a pillow on the floor, stretching his arms high above his head and making the waistband of his pants slip down a little… almost like he knows Seth’s watching. Seth slams his eyes shut, and hears Dean click the light off before settling down. He pretends he doesn’t like in the dark, thinking about the way those pants had slipped down Dean’s hips, how they’d look pooled at his feet, how Dean would feel above him, holding him, inside him. He needs to get laid. That’s all this is.


End file.
